Full Circle
by Shoto Man
Summary: Eighty years after the final Maverick War, X finds himself at Zero's gravesite to fulfil a promise to his deceased friend.


Full Circle   
  


By   
  


Shoto Man   
  
  
  


January 1st, 22XX. Another year gone, another reminder of just how old and obsolete I'm getting. Normally, I'd be able to push aside the date and not dwell on my own age, but this year it's gonna be tough. Y'see, this year marks the eightieth anniversary to the end of the Maverick Wars. I remember it all-from the creation of the first Reploid to the day Sigma went Maverick clear to the day he was defeated for good. 

You wouldn't think I'm eighty plus years old from just looking at me would you? I've been told many times that I look like a boy in his late teens, and I suppose it's true. Whenever I look in the mirror, there's still that same black haired teenager with the big green eyes. I don't look in the mirror much anymore, truthfully. The lack of change I see there kinda depresses me. A lotta things depress me these days, actually. Must be a sign of old age. That's right, I'm not a human. Don't get me wrong, though, technically I'm not a Reploid either, but close enough. It was from my own designs that the Reploid race came from. The name? Mega Man X. 

I find myself on a stone walkway twisting through a scenic park, with marble headstones in row after row almost as far as the eye can see. Yes, I'm in a cemetery--not a place to go to avoid depression, actually, but I made a promise to a friend a long time ago and I intend to fulfill that promise now before I lose my nerve-again. I could tell you about how this is the first cemetery dedicated for the use of both Reploids and humans and all that stuff, but I don't really think much of that as I walk down the well kept path. All I can think of is how beautiful this place is. They activate short ranged weather-control devices around the place during the winter months, so it's green and beautiful year-round. I come here a lot, truth be told. This is a good place to just sit and think. 

I make my way toward the back of the cemetery, my steps portraying a confidence I feel slipping away with every step. Still, I walk I soon come to my destination. The plot of land specifically dedicated to the heros of the Maverick War. This place is just as beautiful as the rest of the cematary-more actually, if you wanna know the truth. Nobody visits here outside of Memorial Day. I pause and let my gaze fall upon all the graves lined up in neat rows and sigh. So many lives lost, and these were just the ones that were considered heros. There was an endless number of pedestrians, Mavericks, and Hunters that lost their lives in that decade. That overpopulation crap they were so concerned with fifty years before the war certainly ain't gonna be a problem for another couple of generations, now. 

Now look at me. I'm getting depressing again. 

Things have gotten a lot better since then. Really. There hasn't been a Reploid called a "Maverick" in almost the same eighty years it's been since Sigma bought it. The Reploids and the humans live in peace-more or less-these days, with equal rights and representation-give or take; still Rome wasn't built in a day. There are some that turn out to be "bad," of course. I mean, the same could definitely be said of humans. It's just that it's nothing compared to the Wars. Heck, there's not even a Maverick Hunters organization anymore. We were disbanded sixty years ago and those that felt like it were accepted into their local police forces. I didn't feel like it. 

Oh, heh. Here I am. I stop at three headstones, separated from the rest, and it's around here where most of the Memorial Day activities take place. The one to the far left reads simply "Dr. Cain." I chuckle a bit at that. The crazy old fart decided that he'd been called Dr. Cain for so long that he might as well be known as that for the rest of eternity. Controversy boiled over that one, most of it coming from his immediate family. Still, it was put specifically in his will, so there wasn't a lot they could do about it. Fitting end for the old guy, actually. I pass by the center one without even looking down at it. That one's mine. It's blank now, of course. Still, I don't like being where I know I'm gonna be pushing up daisies. 

The third headstone is the reason I came here. It's nice, but not too nice. Mostly the way he'd have wanted it, except for maybe the inscription. It reads, "Zero: A true warrior and hero. He paid the ultimate price for both his friends and those he did not know. He will be missed." I can hear Zero now. "You let them spread that kind of cheese on my headstone!?" I smile slightly. Zero was all for fighting the Mavericks. It think it was one of his favorite pastimes. But he never really liked getting recognized for it. Then I see the little niche below the inscription and remember the reason I'm here. 

I try to speak, but I can't get past the lump in my throat. I mean, he was more than my partner. He was my friend-best one I ever had, actually. I swallow hard a couple of times and try again. Success! "Hey, buddy," I say. "It's been a while, hasn't it? Can you believe youngsters these days? The treat me like a fragile old man! 'Course, next to them I really am just a relic, aren't I?" Truth be told, I could still kick the living crud outta any of 'em-and a lot of the newbies've tried to get me to fight 'em, believe you me-but I simply choose not to. Another difference between you 'n me, eh, buddy? I'd've felt sorry for the first rookie to accuse you of being obsolete. 

I'm letting my thoughts wander again. 

I reach into my coat and draw a thin goldish colored cylinder. If it looks like the hilt of a sword, that's because that's what it is. It has a couple of names: lightsaber, beam saber, this particular one's the Z-Saber. Your saber, Zero. The one you left me all those years ago. "I know I should have done this years ago," I say aloud. "But I guess I was just afraid of what it would signify. In doing this I am finally acknowledging that you are gone for good. I'd hoped that you would somehow come back, just like you did the first time." It's true. I've been here countless times, but I keep losing my nerve. 

That lump in my throat is back again. 

I hang my head and tears stream down my face. At least, they would if I'd been built with tear ducts. Somehow, I'm able to continue. "But, I know that's not gonna happen. I know your second lease in life was just that, a lease. You were brought back for a very specific reason, which you accomplished." I can still remember that day eighty years ago as if it were yesterday. I wonder if vets from other wars experience a certain battle day after day the way I live this one? Not a day goes by that I don't see you lying on the ground, your bottom half completely gone. Still, you are alive. You'd been killed once, and if you had anything to say about it you weren't gonna die again. I pick up your decimated body and prepare to warp to MMHQ. Lifesaver and Douglas can put you together again if anyone could. I don't see Sigma behind me, but I see your eyes widen slightly. Then I feel the beam penetrate my body. Oh, the pain is like nothing else I've ever felt. But through the red haze I see the energy erupt through my chest and into yours. I collapse, and see what Sigma's become this time. He's not much more than a mechanical skull attached to the various equipment. You raise your arm cannon and grin that cocky grin that is so much your trademark. I hear the words "You're dead, Sigma," escape your cracked lips as you fire. And that's the last I see before blacking out. To this day I still don't know how I survived, though I have vague recollections of a dream involving Dr. Light. All I remember is waking up in the MMHQ medical bay with your Z-Saber gripped in my hand. 

I shake my head. Now is not the time for this. 

"Yeah," I say aloud. "You did your part. The world's been at peace for decades. I just..." once again, I pause. Sometimes I wonder if these "human" emotions are worth it. Still, I continue. "I just never was very good at saying goodbyes. But you knew that already didn't you?" I smile slightly. I think sometimes Zero knew me better than I know myself. "Well, let's get this over with." 

I hold the Z-Saber in the palms of both hands, looking over it almost reverently. This is it. Do I really have the courage to do this? I try to swallow the lump in my throat-again-but it doesn't seem to help. Somehow, I am able to do it. I put the saber in the niche that was made specifically for it. The niche was made to fit the saber perfectly-it takes a fair amount of my robotic strength to fit it in. No vandals will be able to get it out without destroying half the headstone. 

There. It's done. Maybe now I'll be able to live in peace. 

I pat the headstone, feeling I have to say at least one more thing to my departed friend. "Good-bye, Zero. You were definitely one of a kind." 

My emotions are starting to get the best of me. I think It's time I go home. I stand and start to walk away. I don't get very far before I hear a familiar voice call from behind, "Hey, X! Wait up!" 

I stop. It couldn't be... 

I slowly turn around and my eyes widen to about the size of dinner plates. It is. Zero-complete with his knee length blonde ponytail. He looks different somehow. At first I think it's just the fact that his armor is colored white with gold highlights instead of the red, white and grey that I'm used to seeing. But it's something else. It takes a second, but I do recognize it. Zero is smiling. Not the cocky grin that was so much his trademark, but a kind smile-one I've seen him give me maybe three times during his life. "X," he says to me. "I think it's time I took you home." 

Home? 

I look down at myself. I am suddenly wearing my old battle armor. I hadn't worn this stuff in years. But I don't think I've worn this set ever. It looks just like my old gear, but the various shades of blue are replaced by white and gold. I look back behind me and sure enough I see myself lying in the grass, toppled over like a discarded toy. Ah, X. Ever the poet, aren't you? A small smile plays on my lips as I turn to face my friend. I'm not the least bit scared. To tell the truth, I've kinda been wishing for this day for years. Zero speaks again. "Actually, I didn't come alone. There were a few people who just couldn't wait that long to see you again." I see a trace of his old cocky grin begin to form. 

Zero moves off to one side, and there's someone behind him. He's not all that imposing. He's a bit shorter than me, actually. And he's rather paunchy. His has a full head of stark white hair and a full beard of the same color, contrasting sharply against his stark black eyebrows. The lab coat he wears is an even brighter shade of white. I feel a sharp intake of breath entering my lungs unbidden. I know exactly who this man is. He is my father. Dr. Thomas Xavier Light. Neither of us say anything. There is no need to. We rush into each other's arms like those corny slow motion scenes in the movies. Doesn't seem so corny anymore, I think as Dr. Light and I hug each other. I feel tears-tears!-streaming down my face uncontrollably. Father and son are reunited at last. 

Our reunion is broken up by a tentative female voice that says one word. "Rock?" 

There is an edge of uncertainty in the single word question. I look at her. She's a young girl, in her early teens. Pretty, acutually. Her blonde hair is bound up in a ponytail with a white ribbon and her white dress comes almost to her knees. She has big blue eyes that seem to be pleading. I don't recognize her at first. But as I look at her, memories of a life I never knew I had come crashing into me. I know who she is. Someone who'd been there for me since nearly the beginning. My sister. I finally mutter one word. "Roll...?" She smiles and tears begin to brim at her eyes as well. I smirk-a pretty good imitation of Zero, actually-and hold a hand out to her. "C'mere squirt," I say in a playful voice. She is all to happy to comply, and now there are three of us clustered together hugging and crying. I sense Zero close-by, arms folded and his cocky grin on his face. He's probably savoring the moment, ready to use it as ammunition for later banter, but I don't care at the moment. 

After a few minutes of this, I feel another pair of eyes on me and look up. Leaning against the tree is another robot. About a head shorter than me, but I get the feeling that he looks a lot like me. Kinda hard to tell because of the dark visor covering the upper part of his face-the only hint of black in his white and gold armor. Dr. Light and Roll break away respectfully as the two of us study each other. He seems uncertain, just standing there with his yellow scarf flapping in the wind. I know him instantly. The two of us had been through a lot together. He'd saved my behind a lot of times in the past-almost as many times as I've saved his. We shared good times and bad, were closer than any human brothers could have been, in our own way. And that's exactly what he was, my brother. The world knew him as Protoman, but I knew him as Hadrien Blues. Softly I say, "Hade...?" 

Before I know it, he's in my arms. I'm slightly surprised. That was a display of emotion he would never have shown in life. We just stand there hugging and crying some more for a few minutes with the others watching on. Finally I feel a hand on my shoulder. It's Dr. Light. "Come on, son," he says gently. "Let's go home." 

By now I can't speak. I can't remember the last time I've been so purely happy. I can only nod. No, there is no bright tunnel of light, no heavenly choir greeting us. Not that I mind. I'm not much into all the little bells and whistles anyways. All that matters is that I'm with my family. It's true what they say. Everything eventually does come full circle. 

THE END 


End file.
